Dreams

"The key to happiness is having no regrets, even when you make the wrong decisions."

Hey, it's been awhile.  So yeah...  I've never mastered the whole "happiness" thing.  Probably never will.  I tend to find myself completely flooded with regrets.  They hit randomly, often out of the blue, and stick with me sometimes for days.  I think back on past decisions, relationships, failures.  I can't ever forget.  I remember things that I should have forgotten long ago, things that will apparently never go away...  until night hits.

I absolutely love sleep, and I always have.  It has a wonderful simplicity; it doesn't matter how much is going on in my life or how good or bad things are...  as soon as I hit that pillow, I'm asleep.  It's usually over in a flash, as I jump back in the shower and get on with my daily grind.  But every so often, on rare occasions, I dream.  And some small fraction of those dreams doesn't consist of nightmares.  And it is in that fraction of a fraction of nights that I actually feel alive.

I know that some people believe that dreams have some sort of meaning, in a supernatural sense, I guess.  I'm not one of those people.  People often attach interpretations to dreams, and if such things hold any water, then I suppose my dreams would make me certifiably insane.  I have no idea why my subconscious chooses the scenarios it does, but sometimes, like last night, the stars align.  Sometimes my subconscious drops me in a world that fills me with a sense of wonder that I haven't had since I was young.  I remember a time when the world was new and full of opportunities.  That time has, unfortunately, long passed.

But as I woke up this morning with a sad smile, knowing that my dream world was gone forever, I thought about how amazing it would be if it didn't have to end up that way.  How amazing would it be if some sort of virtual reality dreaming simulation could be invented during my lifetime?  The great thing about dreams is that you're IN them and don't realize it.  Those few lucid moments are just as real at the time as all of the previous hours of the day.  I see no reason why technology couldn't eventually give us a new definition of the phrase "living your dream."  After all, some have posited that our "reality" is just some sort of computer simulation written by a group of more advanced beings somewhere.  That theory is a little too far out for me...  But 50 years ago, the things we do and see today would have been completely unthinkable at the time.  Hell, even 20 years ago, nobody could have predicted what the technology of today would be like.  So who's to say that there won't be some amazing stuff in store for later.  A man can...  well...  dream.  Until then, bring on the night.

The Road Ahead

"We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive."  -C.S. Lewis

I've been busy lately, to say the least.  My son is growing, I'm plodding along as a single dad, and in general things are going...  not so great.  I struggle with stupid philosophical issues.  I struggle because, for one reason or another, I'm not good enough.  If I ever catch the slightest glimpse of happiness or optimism, it's easily snatched away from me.  I'm just tired.

Last week I got the great news that I'll be taking a pretty hefty pay cut at work.  It's going to be very difficult for me to make ends meet.  As if I didn't have enough to worry about, I now have to worry yet again about how I'm going to provide for my son.  I seemingly can't win on that front.  Unfortunately, it looks like this will be a near permanent thing, so it won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

My grandpa was also put into the hospital recently with sepsis.  He wasn't expected to make it.  After going into a coma, they didn't think he'd even wake up, and most people don't recover from sepsis anyway.  Somehow he made a fairly quick recovery and got out of the hospital today.  He'll still be in some kind of intensive care nursing home for three months to do physical therapy, but he's tough and is on the road to recovery.  When I went to visit him in the hospital, he said that he "thinks about me everyday."

That whole situation even had my Mom getting philosophical, and you know shit's getting real when she starts thinking that way.  She said, "You know, I guess the best thing we can do in life is enjoy the time we have and try to enjoy every moment.  You never know how long you have."  Of course, this isn't some extraordinary thought...  people say that all the time.  But I suppose that doesn't make it any less true.  

I've tried to figure out how to enjoy life.  The best I seem to be able to do is waste time.  I can sit around playing video games and watching anime with the best of them.  I can read, study some Japanese, and exercise like a madman.  But is that enjoying life?  For me it's just getting through the day.  I bum through one weekend at a time, to get to the next one, to get to the next one.  I come home to my empty house and cook a nice meal.  I clean because I'm a neat freak, I do a load of laundry, maybe some ironing.  I talk to myself, sometimes in English and sometimes in Japanese to get some practice in.  I tell myself jokes and laugh at them.  Last weekend it really clicked as to how pathetic I am...  For years I've bought Aunt Jemima pancake mix and syrup.  I do make my own mix now, but I still use that syrup...  So for years, every time I used it to make breakfast, I made the bottle "talk" like Aunt Jemima (you know, like an old Southerly black woman).  "She" would always ask everyone in the house how many pancakes they wanted and would give me cooking tips as I worked.  I always made it stupidly over the top, but it rarely failed to make people smile.  So last weekend I fired up the griddle and made myself some pancakes, and as I pulled out good old Aunt Jemima's bottle and started with the voice, I realized something...

"You stupid fuck, you're talking to yourself with a bottle of syrup.  That's not funny, that's goddamn retarded."

So from now on, Auntie is done talking at breakfast.  But the thing that makes me the happiest is making other people happy.  For whatever reason, the guys at work find me hilarious, and it makes me smile to make them smile.  My happiest memories are of making other people happy.  To me, that's what it means to enjoy life's moments.  I remember making my ex-wife laugh for years.  I remember telling my old lover how much she meant to me each day.  She would tell me when I said something to make her smile or laugh, and I'd say that my work for the day was done.  I just wanted to bring her one unexpected smile everyday.  My current wife (at least until next Wednesday)...  well, I have fond memories of zoo trips and getting drunk before baking Christmas cookies and falling out in the floor laughing.

Unfortunately it doesn't end there.  I remember my ex-wife punching me in the head and throwing things at me.  I remember her telling me to grow up and be a man, calling me a pansy.  I remember my lover telling me that I wasn't special, that I was just someone who happened to come along at the right time...  I could have been anyone.  And I remember my current wife telling me outright that she hated me and how pathetic I am.  Today I said that maybe we should reconsider divorce for the sake of our son.  She told me, "Oh I'm not worried about it now.  I found some cheap insurance so I have no interest in being married to you."  On the plus side, at least she was straightforward.

I'm finding myself unable to enjoy life by coming home to an empty house and talking to myself.  I'm not that kind of person, and I never will be that kind of person.  I don't want to die alone.  I don't want to spend a potentially horrifying 50+ years in misery.  Then again, I also don't want to spend life with someone who doesn't enjoy my company.  But why the hell does everyone hate me so much?  Aside from my family, everyone seems to despise me.  There's no joy in video games and books and P90X and an empty house.  There's joy in love and romance and special bonds.  There's joy in making someone's day, in making them smile.  There's joy in bringing happiness to others.  There's joy in coming home each night and sharing the story of your day with someone and hearing theirs.  I don't want to "compromise" and try to make myself be happy in being alone by telling myself that "at least I'm not making everyone miserable this way."  That's no way to be.  I want to enjoy life again.  I want to live.

I just have no idea how to find the road again.

My Answer At Last

"I know you now.  That makes all the difference, doesn't it?  When you really know somebody, you can't hate them.  ...  When it comes to human beings, the only type of cause that matters is the final cause, the purpose.  Once you understand what people really want, you can't hate them anymore.  You can fear them, but you can't hate them, because you can always find the same desires in your own heart."  -Ender's Game

My son has finally arrived.  It's been quite an eventful three weeks.  He was a few weeks early and had a scary entrance, but he's here and well.  I'd been constantly worried about how I was going to handle everything.  I had a lot of built up rage by the time I got to the hospital that night.  She was already starting the whole labor thing, so it was just me, her, and her Mom in the hospital room.  I was visibly angry.  I'm pretty sure there was steam coming off of me.  So I sat there in brooding silence, content to watch her in discomfort.  I've never hated anyone like that in my life.  But at least I had my answer...  there was only one way for me to handle the situation, and it was with rage.

But then something changed.  She started bleeding profusely.  And her epidural failed.  She laid there for half an hour or more, writhing and screaming in pain.  They didn't know why she was bleeding or how to stop it.  By the time her doctor arrived, she was begging everyone around her to make the pain stop, to take the pain away.  I sat there in horror and had my epiphany that I hope will stick with me for a long time.  When a real situation was happening, my thought wasn't to be happy that she was in pain...  my unbidden thought was that, if it were possible, I would gladly take the pain in her stead.  My thought wasn't that I hoped something horrible would happen to her, nor was my concern for my unborn son...  it was concern solely for her.  No, I didn't love her even at that moment, at least not as a man loves a wife.  But I loved her as a fellow human, and that's good enough for me.  Hate isn't the answer.  Hate will never be the answer.  The answer is love, respect, compassion, and forgiveness.

The answer isn't easy...  I suppose life rarely is.  It's easy to love people who love you in return.  It's easy to respect those who respect you.  And it's easy to forgive someone who only punches you in the balls once instead of punching you repeatedly.  But hating someone means wishing bad things upon them, and that's not what I'm about.  That's why I've spent the past three weeks at my estranged wife's apartment, helping take care of things as best I could.  I cooked, I cleaned, I ran errands, and I kept my son the majority of the time.  In the end, I was unappreciated as usual after being kicked out unexpectedly and unceremoniously this afternoon.  It doesn't matter to me, because I can still feel good about what I've done, and I don't harbor any bad feelings toward her.

I think it's safe to say that she's made some mistakes out of uncaring selfishness.  The thing is...  who in the world hasn't done that?  She's been doing some evil stuff, but I've done my own share of evil stuff as well.  Now it's time to do the right thing.  People made fun of me when I did the right thing during my last divorce...  they thought I was being weak and stupid, but I still did it and felt good about the end result.  Now I'll have to do the right thing here, despite the fact that it's not the FAIR thing to do.  For better or worse, she won nine months ago, and I have my son to think about.  Maybe one day doing the right thing will be of mutual benefit, instead of this one sided affair where I give of myself to people who enjoy punching me in the balls.  It's still my dream.  Maybe one day.

The Fallen Angels of Our Nature

"You start with something pure, something exciting.  Then come the mistakes.  The compromises.  We create our own demons."  -Iron Man 3

Yeah I just quoted something pseudo-philosophical from a superhero movie.  Sue me.

I sit here thinking about my past relationships and how I got to the point I'm at now.  I know it's beating a dead horse, but I don't really have anything else to do.  Relationships start off in a grand way.  I remember meeting my ex-wife in the hallways of high school and being amazed at having a real relationship for the first time.  I remember my wedding day and not knowing that I was supposed to look at her when I said my vows.  I remember the hundreds of conversations I had with the love of my life.  I remember pulling a cramp when I woke up in the mornings in such a hurry to get to the phone to read her emails.  I remember when we first shared our feelings for each other...  "What would you say if I told you that I loved you?"  I remember meeting my current wife for the first time.  I remember seeing her walk out of that apartment on our first meeting...  eating bbq with her, then walking around a mall for an hour.  I remember waiting on her to get out of the bathroom for the fifth time and thinking, "You know, as much as this used to annoy me with my ex-wife, I don't mind it at all now."

But then the mistakes started.  In my first marriage I was careless and selfish.  I didn't give enough attention to her feelings or spend enough time with her.  I didn't take her out to eat or treat her like a lady or even act like a man myself.  With my life's love...  I failed her in her time of need.  Oh God, when she needed me the most, I wasn't there and I think about that every fucking day.  I can't forgive myself for that.  She was sitting at the parking lot of my apartment complex, and I wasn't there intentionally...  she needed her best friend and I FAILED.  In my current marriage, I don't think I did much of anything wrong besides marry her in the first place.  I honestly don't have a lot of other regrets.  I fixed the things I was doing wrong in my previous marriage and was actually a solid human being for once.  I put up with a whole lot of shit (including being followed around by stalkers and threatened by a madman) and still ended up this way.  But I read something the other day that fits here perfectly...  when you end up with someone like this who's completely different than the person you originally married, then you can't feel too badly.  You married someone else.  That person just happens to not exist.  Such is life.

But as my friend pointed out on Friday, a lot of people (including her) would be jealous of my life.  She said, "You got to come visit us, and now you're about to head back, play your portal game, buy a brisket sandwich, get a bottle of wine, and watch Iron Man 3 by your fireplace in peace.  Then you're going to spend tomorrow playing video games all day.  A lot of people would kill to do that."  I thought about it, and she's right.  I did all those things.  I watched football, I read my Sunday newspaper, I made divinity, I gamed it up, I talked to some good friends.  If you'd asked me during my first marriage, I'd have said that this was the perfect life.  I guess I'll live with it for now, not that I have much choice in the matter.

The reason I'm here, though...  is due to a long string of problems created by yours truly.  In some form or another, I put myself on this path.  These demons...  yeah, they're mine.

The Measure of a Man

"Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you.  You just gotta find the ones worth suffering for."  -Bob Marley

Every single day, all throughout the day, I wonder what's wrong with me.  As in, not physically or mentally, but I wonder why I lack worth to others.  For as bad as I am sometimes, I don't think I'm THAT bad.  I do attach some measure of value to myself.  I can sometimes become...  overly negative...  but that's not all of me.  It's not even most of me!  In person I'm a pretty fun guy to be around.  I try to make people happy, make them laugh, and brighten their day.  I seem to succeed at that, or at least I thought I did.

Yet every time I get in a relationship, people run away from me.  It's not like they even have to consider whether they should stay with me because they're too busy sprinting the other way.  I understand that I got conned in this marriage, and I guess I just can't fathom how people work.  I can't imagine dedicating two years of my life to tricking another person into having a baby and feeling NO remorse for it.  Is the failing mine or hers?  In my last marriage, my ex-wife walked away pretty quickly and filed for divorce without a second thought.  When I was with my life's love, she also had the chance to run with me but chose not to (granted, she didn't walk away so much as get forced away, but the result was still the same since she didn't have to stay).  Since this keeps happening, I can only conclude that I have no worth to others, or at least not enough to matter.

It's the same way at work...  there's not a lot of value attached to me.  I know that I don't make nearly as much as the guys around me, and I've been there longer than most of them.  When I say things and make suggestions, nobody (at least outside of my department) listens to me or takes me seriously.  

Why?  I ask myself that question a million times a day.  How can I fix it?  I'm obviously doing something wrong.  I don't want to be worthless...  I want to add value to things.  To people's lives, to work, to everything.  I'm about to have a son, and I CAN'T STOP BREAKING THINGS.  He'll be here in less than a month, and I don't have answers.  How can someone like me...  someone who screws everything up and fails at everything in life...  how can I be a parent and role model?  I don't think that I can.  Sometimes I want to quit so badly...  because I don't have answers anymore.

Visions of Grandeur

"'Only the great of heart may despair greatly.'  All that malice and contempt is just love and hope and eagerness gone wrong.  It gives us the chance to do better...  In any case, taking a stand against it is what makes us who we are.  When we don't, we aren't anything.  We're just empty."  -Thomas Covenant

Well, I finally finished the Thomas Covenant Chronicles.  It's been a long ride, but it's finally over.  I can't say that the ending was spectacular, but I don't think anything could have lived up to the hype in my brain.  Still, there was one final good quote that made me think...  and it followed along the lines of what I've been thinking lately anyway.

All of the pain of living...  the pain of past decisions, of being wrong...  it gives us the chance to do better.  It gives us the chance to do something different.

I've always aspired to greatness in the things I do.  I imagine myself accomplishing things.  When I hear my Japanese teacher speaking fluent Japanese to a sushi chef, I think about how I'll be able to do that someday.  When I see dads taking their kids places, I think about how I'll be able to do that someday.  I see people like my boss, an expert in his field, and I think about how I want to catch up to his knowledge.  I see happily married couples, and I want to join them.  I have no choice.  My aspirations won't let me be anything other than what I am.

On many days I wake up in despair...  it hits me fairly often.  Heck, it's usually when I end up posting on here.  But I have to fight, and I do that by setting goals and pressing toward them.  I have a personality type that demands goals.  If I'm not working toward something, I feel like I'm wasting my time...  even if it's visiting a grocery store everyday to try to reconnect with my best friend.

In the end, life doesn't mean anything.  I said that in one of my previous posts.  In a hundred years, nobody will care that I've failed, but until then, I owe it to myself to keep fighting.  I've tried and failed at most everything I've done, but that doesn't mean I have to fail in the future.  I could still be a successful dad, I could find myself in a happy relationship...  I could visit Japan or teach at SQL Pass.  I could win the lottery.  I could find my best friend again.  I could accomplish greatness.  It's all very unlikely, but anything could happen.  My life has proven that so far.

"Happy" Holidays

As a bipolar guy, I hate having to deal with my two extreme aspects.  I especially hate the one I am now...  the one who's devoid of hope and full of despair.  I knew it was coming, but I'm still powerless to stop it.  There's no amount of logic in the world to stop either one of them.

I just wanted to put up my Christmas tree.  My parents were nice enough to bring my tree from their storage yesterday, and since I'm off work today, I figured I'd put it up a little early.  I was afraid it would happen...  I'm not strong enough to handle this either.  The last few years of holidays have not been kind to me.  Three years ago my ex-wife kicked me out of the house before divorcing me.  Two years ago I was living alone in my apartment, and I had to deal with putting up my tree and getting rid of all the ornaments that belonged to my ex-wife.  Last year I didn't get to put up a tree in my tiny apartment, which was depressing enough, but I also lost my best friend, which took an unimaginable toll on me.  This year I'm alone again, and I have to once again deal with getting rid of the ornaments that belonged to my soon-to-be-ex-wife.  My Mom was always so accepting and loving of my current wife and her son...  she was happy to have a family and always treated them well.  She loved buying things for them, and she bought them ornaments to celebrate each Christmas they were in the family.  It makes me sadder for my Mom than it does for me losing my wife and stepson.  My Mom is special to me, and even though she hates my wife now, I know that deep down she's sad as well.

I remember a time that Christmas was happy and special.  As a kid, I always looked forward to putting up the tree.  I'd count down the days weeks in advance.  We always put it up the day after Thanksgiving...  such a fun tradition.  My favorite part was putting on the "icicles."  It was always funny to see my parents get so frustrated putting up the lights (a process that now frustrates me as I do it by myself), then it was time for the ornaments.  Last my Dad would bring out the paper sack filled with tiny, sparkling strands of...  something.  I actually have no idea what it's made out of, but it catches the light and sparkles.  Regardless, putting up the tree was special.  It was my favorite time of year.  What the hell happened?

Being a kid is so full of innocence.  Adulthood sucks.  I want the holidays to be full of magic again, not loneliness and despair.  My doctor (who's the greatest guy in the world, by the way) wants me to see him more this month because holidays are a source of sadness for people like me.  It isn't supposed to be this way.  This is not what life is supposed to be...  But it's about to get worse, and I have no idea how to fix it.

Happy fucking holidays.